1.150 or 117 words of ancient poetry without punctuation. Several poems can be spliced ??together, but they must be accurate. Participate in the book
When the river goes eastward, the waves are swept away, and the romantic figures of the ages. Therefore, the base To the west, the road of humanity is like the Red Cliff of Zhou Lang of the Three Kingdoms. Rocks pierce through the sky, and the waves crash on the shore, rolling up thousands of piles of snow. The country is picturesque, and there are so many heroes at that time. I think back to Gong Jin's time, when Xiao Qiao got married for the first time, and he looked majestic and heroic. Feather fan Wearing scarves, in the midst of talking and laughing, the oars and oars vanish into ashes. My motherland is wandering, and I should laugh at my sentiments. I will be born early. Life is like a dream, and a statue returns to the moon in the river. Translation: The Yangtze River flows eastward, the waves are rolling, and the heroes of the ages are (following them) The water of the Yangtze River passed away. To the west of the old fortress, people said that it was the Red Cliff where Zhou Yu fought during the Three Kingdoms period. The steep and uneven stone walls pierced the sky, and big waves crashed against the river bank, stirring up piles of snow-white spray. The country is like a wonderful picture, and how many heroes gathered in that era. I think back to Zhou Yu back then. Xiao Qiao had just married him. He was in his prime, with a mighty appearance and heroic appearance. (He) held a feather fan in his hand, Wearing a silk scarf on my head, while talking and laughing, (I burned) the powerful enemy's warship to ashes. (At this moment), (I) think about the old events of the Three Kingdoms and pay homage to the ancients. I should laugh at myself for being sentimental and my hair has grown prematurely. Turning white. Life in this world is like a dream. I'd better pour a glass of wine to pay homage to the bright moon on the river! As for Yue Fei's "Man Jiang Hong", Mao Zedong's "Qinyuanchun, Snow: Northern Scenery," are also very good. The original words and sentences are available online. Mr. Zhu Dezhu's "Happy News about the Liberation of Shimen" are both very good: Shimen Blockade the Taihang Mountains, the warriors opened their fingers. They wiped out the whole division and took the important town, and did not teach Hu Ma to return to the Qin Pass. The tactics of attacking fortified areas opened up a new aspect, and the people who had been trapped for a long time were moved to smiles. Our party's heroes have emerged in large numbers, and we will never worry about the spots on our temples. Mr. Chen Yi Chen's "Journey to the Six Kingdoms" is also very grand: Traveling thousands of miles westward, riding the wind and conquering space. Without the wingspan of a roc, there is no way for birds to travel. The sea brews a thousand bells of wine, and the mountains are planted with thousands of green onions. Wind and thunder drive the earth. , there are relatives and friends everywhere... 2. Ancient poetry and calligraphy works of about 160 words are urgent
Generally, you can collect N Tang poems, or write ancient long couplets, such as Kunming Daguan Tower Couplet (180 words): The Kunming Daguan Tower Long Couplet was written by Qianlong of the Qing Dynasty Sun Beard, a famous figure in Kunming during that time, wrote the poem inspired by his visit to the Grand View Tower. The full couplet is as follows: Five hundred miles away, Dianchi Lake rushes towards the eyes, draped in skirts and skirts, I feel joyful at the boundless emptiness.
Look: the divine horse is flying in the east, the spiritual instrument is flying in the west, winding in the north, and flying in the south. Why don't the masters choose to win?
willow. Thousands of years of past events are brought to my mind, I drink wine and sigh, who is the hero? Think about it: the Han Dynasty practiced building boats, the Tang Dynasty marked iron pillars, the Song Dynasty wielded jade axes, and the Yuan Dynasty crossed leather bags.
The great achievements of great heroes took great effort to move mountains. All the bead curtains and painted buildings cannot catch up with the evening rain and morning clouds; then the broken stone tablets are all exposed to the falling smoke.
Only win: a few pestles and bells, half a river fishing fire, two rows of autumn geese, and a pillow of clear frost. 3. Words of more than 200 words are required for calligraphy works and are suitable for students to write.
Words of more than 200 words in the word card have the "Orioles Cry Preface", which is 240 words.
1. "Preface to the Oriole's Cry: Feelings of the Spring Festival Gala" Song Dynasty: Wu Wenying. The swallow comes late and flies into the west city, as if spring is late.
Paintings are carried by boats, the Qingming Festival passes, and the clear smoke slowly rises over the Wu Palace trees. Thoughts and emotions, wandering and following the wind, turn into light fluff.
In the West Lake for ten years, horses were tied to the willows, taking advantage of the delicate dust and soft mist. Trace the red gradually into the fairy stream, the brocade secretly sends the quiet element, leaning against the silver screen, the spring is wide and the dream is narrow, the red is wet, the song is golden.
When the embankment is empty, the setting sun will always return the gulls and herons. The orchids grow old, Du Ruo is still alive, and he still travels in the water town.
After the farewell visit, Liuqiao was unfaithful, the matter went to the flower committee, the jade was buried in incense, and there were many storms. The long waves are jealous, the distant mountains are shy, and the fishing lanterns are reflected in the spring river.
I remember that at that time, the short peach root was crossed, as if it were a brothel, and I wrote poems on the wall before it was defeated, and the tears and ink were pale and dusty. Looking at the extreme end of the dangerous pavilion, the grass is as bright as the horizon, and I sigh that half of my temples are invaded by ramie.
Dark spot inspection, leaving traces and salivating, still dyeing shark's silk, the phoenix returns in confusion, and the broken luan dances carelessly.
Waiting to be written diligently, there is always regret in the book, and the blue clouds and wild geese sink across the vast ocean.
Longing for lovesickness, playing into the mourning zither pillar. Traveling thousands of miles south of the Yangtze River with sadness, the song of resentment is repeated, is the broken soul still there? Interpretation: The lingering cold of late spring seemed to bully me. I drank too much and felt cold and uncomfortable all over. I lit the agarwood stove and tightly closed the gorgeous agarwood windows.
The belated swallows flying into the West City seem to be telling that the scenery of spring has faded. Painting boats carry drunken tourists to the West Lake, and the prosperity of the Qingming Festival has passed like this. Looking at the dark smoke lingering around the trees in the palace of the State of Wu, I have thousands of thoughts about the journey in my heart, just like wandering with the wind, turning into The catkins are floating lightly.
I once lived in the West Lake for ten years, tying my horse to the willow trees and following the fragrant dust and mist. Along the red-flowered embankment, I gradually entered a fairyland-like place.
You ask the waiter to secretly send you a love letter and express your love secretly. There has been so much joy and entertainment in the warm and mysterious depths of the silver screen. Unfortunately, spring is long and dreams are short, and the happy time is so short.
Your tears mixed with red powder wet the singing fan and money-embroidered clothes. The embankment of the West Lake is dim and empty, and the beautiful scenery of the West Lake in the sunset is all given to those gulls and herons.
Youlan has grown old in the blink of an eye, while the new Du Ruo exudes fragrance. I am wandering in this strange water town.
After we parted ways, I also visited the hometown of Liuqiao, but could no longer get any information about the beautiful woman. The past is like smoke, spring flowers wither, ruthless wind and rain, burying fragrant flowers and beautiful jade.
You are born so beautiful, the clear and transparent water waves make you jealous, and the lush green mountains in the distance shy away from your curved eyebrows. Dots of fishing lanterns are reflected on the river, and you and I are living together in a painted boat.
The scene of saying goodbye at the ferry is still fresh in my mind. The makeup building you lived in is still the same as before. When we broke up, I wrote poems on the ruined wall. The ink marks with tears have been covered with dust, and the handwriting has become pale and blurred.
When I climbed up to the high pavilion and stared intently, I saw a bunch of fragrant grass stretching to the horizon. I sighed at the half of my temple hair that was already as white as ramie. I silently looked through old items.
The silk handkerchief you left behind is still stained with tears and saliva when parting. It is a record of past joys and sorrows. I am like a lonely phoenix with drooped wings who has forgotten its way back, and like a helpless lone luan who is too lazy to fly and dance.
I want to write a long love letter full of sadness and hatred, but when I see the swans sinking in the blue sky and the sea, who will convey my love for me. I can only place the pain of lovesickness on the strings of the mourning zither, and play out the sorrow in my heart alone.
Thousands of miles south of the Yangtze River makes me sad everywhere. Is your soul right in front of you? Can you hear my plaintive words and lamentations? 2. "Preface to the Oriole's Cry: Full Rhyme by He He and Zhao Xiu" Song Dynasty: Wu Wenying The horizontal pond is covered with bright brocade, attracting mandarin ducks to water. In the evening when the clouds are broken, I smile and fold the flowers to return, and the cyan gauze lowers to protect the stamens of the lamp.
Run jade thin, ice light tired bath, tilting the phoenix stock plate and falling in the clouds. Listen to the soft sound of the silver bed.
The parasol trees gradually disturb my thoughts. The light streaming through the window is like a swift feather, complaining about the swallows in the sky.
I woke up by mistake, Fengzhu knocked on the door, but the old friend never came. The records of Langgan and new poems are carefully pinched, and the old traces and fragrant traces are slender.
Afraid of following the rules, Luo Fan’s favor is sparse, and autumn is born again. In the old days of the West Lake, the painting boats moved frequently, and I sighed several times to linger in my dreams.
Xia Pei is cold, the waves are uncertain, the musk mist is flying in the rain, the shark's gauze is wet, and there are red tears in the dark. On a single night, at the center of the wave, the flute is played on the moon and the colorful clothes are danced, towards the Ming Dynasty, without realizing that the flowers are haggard.
The sweet fragrance is easy to fall. When you look back, the blue smoke is locked, and the sky in the mirror is painted on the screen. The remaining cicadas are singing their songs through the Western Garden, and I feel the red and resentful green.
Remember the habit and rest in Wu Palace. The dark willows chase the coolness, the dawn bank is slanting, and the dew rises.
The lotus roots are lingering in the silk, and the joy lingers. Taosheng spreads out the shadow of Xianglang, with Zhaohua, Zongli and Libing leaning on each other.
Nowadays, there is frost on the temples, half a box of autumn poems, and the paper is full of beetles. Interpretation: I used to live in Hengtang, and I would go boating on the lake with my beloved every day, walking among the gorgeous lotus flowers, cuddling together and watching the mandarin ducks playing in the water.
It wasn’t until dusk was approaching that the sunset rose, and I reluctantly broke off a lotus flower with the beauty and took it home with me. The night is getting darker, and the soft candlelight revealed in the gauze veil dims the bedroom. After the beauty comes out of the bath, her skin is like cream, her bun is sloping, and she is charming and charming.
The two of them lay listening to the soft whisper of the parasol trees falling in the wind beside the well railing, as if they felt the slightest chill of autumn. Time flies, and time easily throws people away.
The swallow flew back again, but the nest was empty and empty. He suddenly heard a knock on the door in the old house. He thought it was the return of the beauty, so he got up and opened the door to greet her, only to find that the wind blew green bamboo and slapped on the door, and the old lady had not returned.
I recall the time when the beautiful lady sat by the window and used her slender jade fingers to carve new poems on the bamboo poles. Those remaining traces are now very old. At the beginning, I was always afraid that time would pass quickly and my love would be cut off one day, but unexpectedly, my words turned out to be a prophecy.
Later, when I spent time with another beautiful woman in West Lake, I was often haunted by dreams and made people sigh. At that time, the two of them often went boating on the lake to see the intoxicating scenery and enjoy the joys of the world.
The ebb and flow of the tide, mist, rain and clouds, and the change of seasons, make the beautiful woman cry and wet her handkerchief from time to time, making it even more beautiful and touching. After dark, the two of them still stayed together on the boat, sleeping deep in the waves. The beauty danced for her lover under the moon. Even if they were so lingering until the sky was bright, they were still radiant and without any trace of sleepiness or fatigue.
Flowers are destined to wither when they bloom, and the deep love and each other's vows at that time will eventually disappear, and looking back will be nothing more than another romantic relationship. The sound of cicadas in the courtyard filled my ears, and I was suddenly reminded of the cicadas singing during their trysts in the West Garden in the past, as if they were singing accompaniment to their romance.
I also recalled lingering and resting with my lover on the bank of the weeping willows in Wu Palace, from dusk to dawn, all night.